Enchanted: The story of Fenris and Hawke
by meggleicious
Summary: A small smirk I would soon come to know as an indicator of imminent danger curled her full lips, and she sashayed forward, her hair swinging around her waist. "You say your master wishes to strip the flesh from your bones? A pity. It seems a waste of a perfectly handsome elf." Her eyes flashed. Powerful. Royal. A queen, perhaps, or a deity...but an ally? A beautiful, mage ally?


**Enchanted**

Chapter One: _Bait and Switch and…an Ally?_

"I – oh yes, yes, that can very easily be arranged. You won't be disappointed, I can promise you that!" The dwarf attempted a reassuring smile, but it came out lopsided and nervous – much like his flickering, dull eyes, which had been studying the winding tendrils of my markings where they disappeared into my breastplate until he had noticed me noticing.

I regarded him with ill-disguised contempt for several heartbeats as he squirmed uncomfortably, berating myself for the third time on spending so much coin that week. _This _was all that I could now afford, due to my own careless stupidity and oversight, this man-child who could not go for more than a minute without casting a terrified look upward at the deep blue, star-studded sky above us. "Have your men meet me tonight at the specified address. I do not expect failure, dwarf."

Anso shook his head once, twice, forcing another smile at me that had my teeth on edge. This wasn't going to work. But what other option did I have? My contacts had gotten word to me last week about this 'package', to be hand delivered by Tevinter slavers tonight precisely when the moon was at its apex, and since then, I could not satisfy the gnawing curiosity that continued to grow like its own entity until it felt like a physical pain within me. I had no idea what this package could contain – didn't dare hope, or fantasize - and knew this was most likely a poorly-disguised trap, but I had to know, nonetheless. As crude as the trap was, I knew I could not handle an entire contingent of armed slavers in the state I was in now, half-starved and on edge.

Exhaling through my nose, I passed over the pre-determined sum of gold, which I had tucked into a small, brown leather pouch. Anso was quick to accept, dirtying the bag with wide, greasy fingers and grinning. I already regretted this. Hopefully Anso's distraction would allow me to slip in and out of the hut unseen – a feat more difficult than perhaps expected, as my markings made sneaking around most difficult, especially in the dark.

"W-what should I tell them?" Anso asked nervously after I had already half-turned away, and I was tempted to run him through then and there and save us both from the misery of this interaction. "Not the truth, obviously."

"Must I spell this out for you?" I demanded, striding forward two steps until I towered over the dwarf. He cowered back, crouching in my shadow, and I realized that my markings had burst to life, searing as they illuminated my strangeness in a blaze of brightest blue – _venhedas. _I reeled back, rubbing at my temples, before opening my eyes to glare at him. "I need a distraction. I don't care what you tell them, as long as it gets them to the alienage. Do you understand?"

"Yes," squeaked the dwarf, hiding behind his upraised arms. Coward. The act was futile; it took more than soft flesh to deter the killing power branded into my skin. "Yes, I – you got it, I-I'm your man, through and through!"

I stalked away before he finished speaking, unsettled and annoyed. I could not afford to be so tense and on edge, especially when Danarius's men were at such a close proximity to me. Over the past few years there had been little to do save for studying the markings, and harnessing control over the extent of their power – even I had been horrified at what damage I could wreak with little more than a glorified temper tantrum. But now – I clenched my fist, curling and uncurling my fingers, bloodlust and excitement rising within me. But now, it was with this very same curse inflicted upon me that I would inflict suffering onto them. Onto _him. _Soon, my vengeance would be satisfied. I would be fulfilled. My purpose would be complete, and I would finally be able to start living as a free man, not hunted like a dog wherever I went.

I found a good alcove to squat in until midnight, with an excellent view of the square below me. Leaning my weight against the sword, I was content to sit and wait, despite my rising impatience, my rising anxiety – this was a trap. It was obviously a trap. Anso's distraction would fall quickly to the slavers, so I would have to move fast. Why was I even here? This package was to lure me out. Likely, there wasn't even a package – but…what if there was? What could it contain? What did I _want _it to contain? I entertained myself over the next several hours imagining what secrets this accursed box could hold – mementos of my past? Clues about my life before? The ultimate weapon to kill an all-powerful magister? Before I knew it, the moon was high, and there was a disturbance at the very entrance to the alienage – a party of four crept out of the alleyway. Three humans, and a dwarf. That was it? The best Anso could do? More coin put to waste. I loosed a sigh through my nose.

I leaned forward, watching their progress across the square with keen eyes – no slavers yet. Perhaps they wanted me – them – to have hope of reaching the mysterious box before they captured me and stripped the skin from my body. My hatred was a tight ball in my stomach as I watched the distraction disappear into the unassuming hut, and the shadows flooded the square; from the houses, from the alleys, from the stairwell directly below me they streamed in like pests, armed to the teeth, and made a loose semi-circle around the hut that now housed the doomed souls.

"Blighted mage could've done this 'imself, aye?" Muttered the leader, loud enough for me to hear from my hiding spot. She was a crass, tanned, dark-haired woman with a voice like smoke. "Hidin' up in his fancy Hightown house while we get to do his dirty work. Coward."

"His coin's good, though," reminded her companion gently, resting a hand on her elbow. "And he's paying a _lot_ of it, for just one elf."

I went cold, and a deep feeling welled within me – more anxiety? Anticipation? Yes, that was it. Danarius was _here_. In Kirkwall. So close I could nearly taste it. _Venhedas_, I had spent the last of my coin to provide this distraction. It would take weeks, if not months, to gather enough to hire a competent group to take with me – no, not competent. It would require the best, the very best, to deal with the foul Magister. His face flashed before my mind and my fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword, disgust curling my lip and nearly causing me to miss the party emerging empty-handed from the front – the leader, the one the dwarf, the blonde human, and the red-headed human seemed to orient themselves around – had waist-length dark hair and radiated irritation. They stopped dead in their tracks, and the two groups regarded the other in surprise for several tense heartbeats.

"That's not the elf, who is they?" The crass woman finally demanded, breaking the silence and jabbing her finger in the direction of the four.

"It doesn't matter," her companion replied sadly, drawing his sword. "We were instructed to kill anyone who came out of that house. You have poor timing, friends."

Almost before he was done speaking, the blonde man whipped out his staff and with a shout, fire began to fall from the sky, scattering the slavers. The few unfortunates who managed to dodge the flaming balls were met with a barrage of arrows, but were more immediately concerned with the angry redhead running at them, sword raised. Though internally I recoiled at the sight of the mage – the apostate – I was in shock that they seemed to be _winning_. More and more slavers fell, seeming to endlessly come out of the dark alleyways that filtered into the alienage, but it did not deter the party. I could not properly see what was happening through the unholy usage of snow, ice, fire, and lightning that the apostate was mercilessly unleashing upon his – _my_ enemies. They were…skilled. Perhaps skilled enough to suit my needs.

"What's going on? Why hasn't Esme returned yet?" A commotion beneath my perch roused me from my transfixed viewing of the battle; turning around, I saw another contingent of men making their way down the main stairway to the alienage, their leader a scrawny human with beady eyes and a feral expression. Clearly, he was not pleased – certainly to be even less so once he beheld the sight of his woman's cooling corpse. Ten slavers, by my quick estimate – all armed to the teeth, though their resolve seemed to be shaken by the death cries of their fellows as they were burned alive. _Magic_. Though, momentarily, it was useful to me. The leader of the men below me raised his fist, bringing the group to a grinding halt. "Prepare yourselves," he hissed, and as soon as his crown of mud-colored hair turned the corner to confront the group, I released the tension I had allowed to build up in my calves and sprung from my hiding place, landing silently behind the group. Pleasure lanced through me as I punched through the chest of the nearest man, my lyrium alight with bloodlust, armor and all. He died silently. Four fell that way before they caught on to me, and it felt like a release as I drew my broadsword, and let them come. Their blood on my skin made the tattoos sing with vicious delight, and I could not help but imagine them having Danarius's face, his cold, flinty eyes brilliant with cruel amusement as their lives were extinguished.

The last had the good sense to run - though it was futile. I had crushed his heart even before he rounded the corner, before he could call for help. He staggered forward two full paces, before collapsing down the stairwell. I turned the corner then, sheathing my blade, brushing passed the shell-shocked Captain.

"Your men are dead," I told him tonelessly as I did so. His eyes narrowed further with hate, and then with recognition. "Your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your Master while you can." A lie, a petty hope to dangle before him before I finished what I had started.

"You are going _nowhere_, slave," the Captain snarled from behind me, and had the gall to grab my shoulder – the word, coupled with the uninvited touch, once more had Danarius's smirking face dance in my mind's eye, had my tattoos lighting up of their own accord. I smacked his hand from me, gripping his wrist, and pulled him forward, reveling in the expression of abject terror seconds before my hand was embedded deep into his chest, his organs warm and alive. I didn't bother pulling out the heart; I simply let his body fall to its knees before me, as though it were worshipping me, and was grimly satisfied.

"I am not a slave," I said, very softly, before turning and really looking at Anso's surprisingly competent distraction for the first time. The dark-haired leader was…beautiful. The word surprised me as it floated through my mind; typically I did not notice such things, but perhaps it was the expression in her deep brown eyes, or the defiant set of her lips – I could relate, having made that very same expression myself on numerous occasions. Her pale arms were marked with dark tattoos, and she had them crossed in front of her atop her ribcage, one eyebrow raised as she very thoroughly appraised me. The aura she radiated was…it made me want to avert my eyes, as if I would be consumed or crushed were I to remain looking. _Powerful_. That was the word; regal. A queen. Or…a deity. The others looked to her with the same sense of awe, respect – their appearances registered quickly: the redheaded guard, the blonde apostate who regarded me with open curiosity, and the grinning dwarf who occupied the position to her right

After several beats of silence, my eyes returned to hers – she was clearly waiting for me to speak. "I apologize," I began warily. "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction, I had no idea they would be so…numerous." The way she was watching me – it was unsettling. I could not describe it even if I desired to. The closest comparison I could make was the way a lion or a wolf regarded a strange, new species of predator – or insect.

Her expression remained impassive. "We've faced worse," she deigned to reply, her tone very nearly edging bored. Bored, after cutting through a legion of slavers like they were butter. She was still dripping blood; it coated her arms and her hands, though I saw no immediate weaponry on her person.

"Impressive," I responded, turning away; somehow, this did not surprise me. The four of them were apparently seasoned; their expressions haunted, their muscles toned and corded. Again, all familiar to me. "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters, seeking to recover a magister's lost property – namely, myself." I turned back toward them, feeling I owed them an explanation after having been directly responsible for putting them in danger in the first place. "They were trying to lure me out into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone. Thankfully, it seems Anso chose wisely." I inclined my head in acknowledgement of this fact, an act the leader imitated.

"Everything Anso said was a lie, then," she murmured in a quiet voice, much too quiet – as though Anso's continuing health was to be in need of immediate concern.

"Not everything," I reassured her, raising my hands. "Your employer simply was not who you believed him to be."

"If you couldn't fight them, why not just run?" She inquired delicately, and alarm bells sounded in my head – a test. I had lived with cunning, necrotic magisters for long enough to recognize the signs, and I needed their help if I was to take down Danarius tonight.

"There comes a time when you must stop running, when you turn and face the tiger."

A glimmer of approval flickered very briefly deep in her eyes before it faded; I felt unduly relieved that I had passed. "That seems like a lot of effort for just one slave." A question hidden in a casual comment, though her eyes were sharp.

"It is." I would not get into my life with a single beautiful, prying stranger. That was beside the point; I needed their help. Tonight. Now.

"I assume it has something to do with those markings." One pale, slim finger pointed to the exposed skin between my gauntlets and my breastplate.

Frequently, I forgot that these tattoos looked out of place, as accustomed as I was to seeing them seared onto my skin. "Yes, I imagine I must look strange to you." Another probing look, and I sighed, relenting. "I…did not receive these markings by choice. Even so, they have served me well. Without them, I would still be a slave."

"I don't appreciate being lied to." Her voice was cool, and I found myself scrambling, fearful of losing their potential support.

"Perhaps the deception was unnecessary," I ventured carefully, testing the waters. "If so, I apologize. I have grown too accustomed to hiding." She did not spit at me and call me a sniveling coward, so I dared to press my luck, despite her expression. "If I may ask – what was in the box? The one they kept in the house?"

"It was empty," replied the dwarf at her elbow, who was still grinning.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for. Even so, I had to know." What _had _I begun to hope for? Had I truly imagined Danarius would just leave a secret way to kill him lying in the hands of semi-competent lackeys?

"You were expecting something else?" The red-haired guard spoke now, looking at me with – with _pity_? I recoiled at the kindness in her eyes, and my voice came out sharper than I had intended.

"I was, but I shouldn't have. It was bait, nothing more." And I had known that from the start.

"I've done as you asked," the woman very nearly interrupted me, looking annoyed. "The job's done."

"Not quite," I muttered, and I strode forward to kneel beside the bleeding corpse of the Captain, reaching into the small leather pouch he held with him. Fishing through it, conscious of the eyes upon me, I withdrew a key that radiated cold, radiated _him_. "My former master accompanied them to the city. I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees the city. I…will need your help." The word was bitter on the back of my tongue, but it was the truth. I could not face Danarius alone.

The leader let out one disbelieving laugh. "You lured me into a trap, and now you need my help?"

"If Anso had told you to divert a group of Tevinter bounty hunters, would you have done it?" I demanded.

"I would have charged _more_," she snapped back, not missing a beat, and my frustration reared its head, despite the fairness of her statement.

"My funds are limited, but I will find a way to repay you, I swear it." _Just help me! Before he moves on!_

"You sound like you intend to do more than just talk." Another non-question.

"Danarius wants to strip the flesh from my bones, and has sent so many hunters that I've lost count," I snarled at her, my fists clenching. "And before that, he kept me on a leash as some sort of _pet_, to mock Qunari customs. So, yes, I intend to do more than just _talk_."

She studied me in silence for a moment, before she brushed her hair aside and stalked passed me, enveloping me in a lavender-scented cloud that threw me off guard. Such a feminine, pleasant scent for one so…un-feminine. "Let's go, then," she snapped over her shoulder, and like a dog coming to heel, I fell in step with the rest of her group, journeying to Hightown in her shadow.

Nothing met us within the mansion save for shadows, but something was not right. I half-stepped forward, standing by the woman's side – who had reluctantly introduced herself simply as "Hawke" after a brief exchange of information outside.

"Something's wrong," I said urgently to her, before turning and glaring at the empty room moments just as demons erupted from the ground, clawing and shrieking and eyeing the blonde apostate and Hawke hungrily.

Hawke rolled her eyes, and lifted her hands – something in me sank as lightning shot from her fingertips, even as it cut through our enemies, and it was with vicious efficiency. Her entire being lit up as she expelled the magic, her grin feral and delighted as her foes fell to her feet. Magic, again. Always magic – my eternal tormenter. Nontheless, I held my tongue as I shot forward, cleaving with my sword, slicing through the writhing entity before me very carefully. Lower level demons; a mage certainly _had _been here. We carefully combed every single inch of the mansion, but Danarius was nowhere to be found, and my frustration was boiling once more. I left the group, bidding them to collect on whatever valuables Danarius had left behind before stalking towards the door, my fists clenched and in desperate need of fresh air.

An hour after resting against one of the pillars and staring upward at the beautiful, endless Kirkwall night sky my temper had finally cooled. He just knew I was coming for him, somehow. He always knew. The door banged open and out strode the company, who paused just out of my line of sight, and very slowly I turned, thinly veiling my disgust as I addressed Hawke once more, who was still aglow with the aftermath of battle.

"It never ends." My voice was low, bitter. "I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burned into my flesh, and into my soul." I turned and faced Hawke fully, folding my arms across my chest and watching her with open mistrust, hostility. _Mage_. It had not been power she radiated; it was the arrogance all magisters exhibited, the absolute confidence that they were unstoppable with the aid of the unholy energy. "And now, I find myself in the company of even more mages." I took a half-step toward her, and she met my eyes, though they tightened, and I became very aware of her hands. Should I get too close, she could kill me with half a thought. What man merited such power? "I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realized sooner what you truly are. You harbor a viper in your midst." I directed the last bit to her company, my eyes sliding past her to look at the dwarf. "It will turn on you and strike when you least expect. It is in their nature."

"Careful, elf," Hawke snarled, stepping forward until she was a threatening few inches away, so that I got hit with another wave of jasmine and lavender. "I _did _just help you, you know."

Her comment stalled me, and I looked down at her with surprise. Of course she did. What was I saying? Where had this come from? From the rage that was slowly eating away at my core, most assuredly. "I don't mean to appear ungrateful; I assure you, this is not the case." I reigned in the unwarranted anger, exhaling through my nose, and she studied my face for a heartbeat more before taking a step back. "I'm not blind. I know magic has its uses." I nodded toward the abandoned manor a proof. "But even the most well-intentioned mage are victims to their own temptations. I did not find Danarius, but regardless, I owe you a debt. Here is the coin Anso promised you." I reached forward, and my fingertips brushed hers as she accepted the pouch. My tattoos reacted strangely to the touch of the mage, flaring up uncomfortably. "Should you find yourself in need of assistance, I will gladly render it."

"We're not going to have a problem?"

"I will watch you carefully, if we travel together. I can promise nothing more."

A small smirk I would soon come to know as an indicator of imminent danger curled her full lips, and she sashayed forward, her hair swinging around her waist. "You say your master wishes to strip the flesh from your bones? A pity. It seems a waste of a perfectly handsome elf." Her eyes flashed.

I opened my mouth to reply before the comment registered, and I blinked, feeling my skin warm. I shifted uncomfortably and looked away, though quietly I was…once again, unsettled. _Perfectly handsome elf?_ I coughed to cover my embarrassment. "The truth is, I know nothing of the ritual that burned the lyrium into my flesh. It was Danarius's choice, one that he now regrets."

"I'm planning an expedition I may require help with," she says finally with a nod, the smirk still touching her lips, as if sensing my discomfort. "Someone with your particular skills just may come in…handy."

The dwarf, Varric, snorted. "Out of all the hand-related puns in the world, Hawke, you go with _handy_?"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion Varric." Hawke's voice grew petulant.

"If that fact became any more apparent, it would have to walk right up to you and knock you in the jaw," he said sorrowfully, shaking his head.

I don't know what compelled me to take up residence in Danarius's former home; one of many, most likely. Perhaps I wished to feel what it would be like to take something of his. Perhaps, recklessly, I wished to lure him out while I still had Hawke's cooperation.

Or, perhaps, I was just a masochist.

My first order of business had been to take all of the corpses – courtesy of Hawke and company – and stuff them into a side room to the right, just off the main hall. It would do until I figured out what to do with them. The place, after a quick examination, was a mess, and I did not feel compelled to right it while it was still owned by Danarius. One pleasant discovery about three days later was the vast, expansive wine cellar – I took one of the many decorative candles to light my way, picking up and weighing one of the dusty bottles in one hand. I could not help but scowl when I beheld it; Aggregio. It was familiar. It was….

_"Don't make Lady Emilia wait, my little wolf," Danarius purred from his lounge, half-dressed and giving his latest consort beside him a half-hooded smile. She was rather plain, bland – yet another blonde, social-climbing mage. He would tire of her soon, though Fenris was relieved at the reprieve from his attention. Danarius beckoned suggestively with one finger, lifting his own glass for the elf to refill. Fenris shuffled forward, eyes downward, and obediently refilled the goblets of both his Master, and his Master's plaything. _

_ Lady Emilia giggled, her cheeks already pink from the wine – the third bottle, if Fenris could remember correctly. She looked at the elf admiringly, before resting her head against Danarius's chest, normally the place he preferred his 'little wolf'. "Make him do the glowy thing, darling."_

_ "You heard the lady," Danarius drawled, and Fenris obeyed, ignoring the searing pain as his tattoos exploded to life. "Good. That's enough. Come. The three of us have other…business to attend to." _

"Fenris?"

I leaped backward in shock at the noise, at first wildly looking around the dark room. Spirits? No, of course not. He knew that voice.

"In here," he called out in reply after he lowered his hackles, still clutching the bottle.

Hawke. She appeared at the doorway, in a beautiful, short dress of brightest red that accented her dark hair and lengthened her eyelashes. Her tattoos matched her hair. Without being invited, she glanced around before sitting on the bench by the fireplace, which I had lit before venturing down to the cellar.

"Your former Master was an alcoholic, then?" She inquired dryly, crossing her pale, shapely legs. She truly was beautiful, and the closer I was now, I could feel that aura radiating from her again – _power_. Arrogance. Like the air was crackling, charged around us. It made my tattoos itch.

"Aggregio Pavali. Danarius used to have me pour it for his…guests." The blonde Emilia flashed through my mind. "He enjoyed that my appearance intimidated them." I glowered at her before taking a sip of the Aggregio, its poison searing my mouth.

Another gleam flared in her deep brown eyes, and that same, flirting-with-danger half-smile curled her lip upward. "I can't imagine why they would be put off," she nearly purred, and proceeded to survey me with a thoroughness that had me flush. _Venhedas._ It was warm in here. I hurriedly took another sip of the wine to hide my expression, and after a moment of hesitation, I chucked it against the wall with _his _portrait, destroying both the painting and the bottle, before returning my eyes to Hawke, whom had just barged into my house "You say what's on your mind; I'll give you that."

"You could have at least offered me a glass," she muttered, crossing her arms, and I found myself very nearly smiling.

"There's more, if you really wish."

Hawke waved the comment off, her smile becoming feral. Danger? "Perish the thought! However else would you redecorate the walls?"

A joke. She was looking at me, waiting for my reaction, and I found myself chuckling at the expression on her face – as if she were hopeful for a reaction. I walked forward and sat warily on the bench opposite her, studying her as she studied me.

"Would you go back?" I asked her quietly after a moment. "After Ferelden rebuilds itself. Would you want to return?"

"Lothering was destroyed," she replied, her voice equally soft, her brown eyes nearly gold in the low light of the fire behind us. "I have no home to return to. Kirkwall is…where my family is."

Family? That was probably the longest sentence I'd heard Hawke mutter in the brief time I'd been acquainted with her. I'd no idea she had a family.

"Putting down roots. I understand why that would be appealing." For some reason, I felt inexplicably heavy. "Still, to have the option to return must be gratifying." My eyes somehow found my lap, staring at my hands. Home. I had no recollection of a home before Danarius. Par Vollen would come the closest, yet even so…

The woman across from me shifted, leaning forward and I looked up at her quickly, suspicious of the movement. She was close enough so that I could see every eyelash, the smattering of freckles across her nose, and the golden flecks in her deep brown eyes. I was trapped in her gaze, unable to move, staring into them with confusion.

"You could make a home here," she finally murmured, sincerely, before drawing back. I remained stunned into stillness at the sudden closeness. "If you're looking for one, you could stay."

"I could see myself staying – for the right reasons," I finally managed, my tone a touch more intense than I meant it to be, searching her gaze – a friend? A loyal ally I could depend on? Such a thing did not exist, and if it did, it was not something I could readily turn my back on. A ghost of a smile flickered across her full lips, and I looked away, clearing my throat and tearing myself from her thrall. Perhaps she was working some sort of magicks on me, and that is why I felt so…soothed, by her presence. "Had I known Anso would find me a woman so capable, perhaps I would have sought help sooner." There. I awaited her reaction with my heart in my throat, though my expression remained blissfully stoic.

She blinked with surprise, before a full-blown grin upturned her lips. "You sound like you're about to ask me for a loan." The first smile I had seen on her, and it lit up her entire face. A smile made only more of a reward for its apparent scarcity.

I chuckled again, unable to resist the expression. "Perhaps I'll practice my flattery for your next visit?" Next visit? What was I talking about?

My thoughts were silenced once more as she stood and looked back at me once more, the ghost of the phantom smile still playing around her mouth, before she walked away from me. I stood there for minutes afterward, shaking my head in bemusement, wondering what had gotten into me.


End file.
